I want to unhouse this body,
tear up the floorboards of my flesh,
Allow the blood to seep out into the earth.
To break down to moss might be the most merciful thing I could do to
this prison of permanence that keeps me
above ground.

I am contamination,
I am illness housed in bone
slicing this skin to let the sickness seep out
to let the blood sink into the dirt
to return my borrowed body to the depths.
I never asked to be trapped
tied down in muscle and fat.
I am more corpse than corporeal
so bury me where I belong.

I have only felt joy while holding my breath.
The high of being denied oxygen makes me feel closer to you.
I crave your cold hands wrapping around my throat
ripping this skin open
letting me fall to pieces amongst the flowers.
At least the winds will whistle my name when I'm gone,
the sweet tune of the trees
soaking me in through their roots.

If I was not happy above the dirt,
let me fill these lungs with the funeral of the earth,
the carrion will make use of these remnants of skin
and I will be content to be cloaked and crowned in this castle of soil
below